


Dissent, Sentiment, and Steel

by Gallicenae



Series: Dragon Age - Mages and Templars [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Confrontations, Gen, Tension, The Inner Circle - Freeform, War table, Well of Sorrows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-09
Updated: 2015-08-09
Packaged: 2018-04-13 18:19:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4532358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gallicenae/pseuds/Gallicenae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After allowing Morrigan to drink from the Well of Sorrows at the Temple of Mythal, the Inquisitor must have words with her companions. (A one-shot.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dissent, Sentiment, and Steel

The air of dissent in the war room clung to Rhian like a shadow. Raised voices and heated words passed from one companion to the next. They were so close now, so close to defeating Corypheus and they could not waste time with this bickering. She’d requested Josephine bring in everyone after they’d returned from the Arbor Wilds. Few, it seemed, agreed with Rhian’s decision to allow Morrigan to partake of the Well of Sorrows. Here, they knew they had a say, but today, today there were too many voices.

Rhian was in a back corner leaning against the wall, her arms crossed and her face brooding. Leliana stood off to her side, taking in the chaos. “I know you do not make decisions lightly, and I know how much you have hated making some of them. I have not always trusted Morrigan, but you do. Here and now, that is all that matters.” Her face grew stern. “In this room, you are beyond question.”

Rhian looked at her old friend, so hardened and changed by the events of the last several years. The Blight, Kirkwall, the Conclave, and everything in between, is that how they always came out on top? Is that how they always succeeded? “Tell me Leliana, when did we become the ones who were not to be questioned?”

Her steps were soft, but they all knew the moment Rhian left the spymaster’s side. The shock of quiet as they turned to watch her walk through the room squeezed at her stomach. Rhian said nothing as she took her place behind the war table, making it a point to look each of her companions in the eye, both hands spread before her on the map.

“I will only say this once.” She weighted each of her words and they dropped heavy upon those who listened. “My actions, my choices, as leader of this Inquisition are not meant to please you. Do not mistake my familiarity nor my friendship for foolishness.” Rhian’s eyes pierced them in a way few had seen before, her energy vibrating both around and through them all. They had grown far too comfortable with the idea that she was just a person, even though she would have liked nothing else. To be complacent meant failure. To be misdirected and at odds meant defeat. “I have three advisors in this room, and they know well enough when to leave me to my own council. I do not have the time nor the patience to cater to every whim that stirs each of your fancies. I cannot afford the luxury of caring what you think when the world could end if I do not make a decision.”

“My dear,” Vivienne’s voice rose beside The Iron Bull, “I am certain by now we all know sentimentality is not an option, for you or anyone else here. We are all willing to-”

“Oh, my lady Vivienne, but you are not.” Rhian’s voice was low, daring for the confrontation.

“I beg your pardon, Inquisitor?”

“Willing, Madame le Fer, you are not willing.” She straightened, gathering her hands together in fists at her sides. “Had you the option, none of you would have touched the Well. Not a single one of you. And you dare judge me on making the same choice? On allowing another, one who was willing, to partake of its wisdom?”

The Iron Bull scratched at his eyebrow before loudly exhaling. “It’s no judgement on you Boss. It’s just, this witch, whatever you want to call her...” 

“She should not be trusted.” Vivienne finished pointedly.

“Why?” The question was cold, bitter, too often asked in preparation to defend Morrigan as in countless times before. “Because she is an apostate? Need I remind you we have plenty in our company already, who have proven their worth time and again?”

Rhian had no intention of stepping about lightly. She knew Vivienne was a hard hitter and dangerously adept at the Game, and she knew that Vivienne was used to feeling in control. Rhian would not allow this to go on in hidden corners of Skyhold; she would have it all out here, now. “Or could it possibly be, Madame, that you are intimidated by the knowledge she has as a hedge mage because your Circle would never have allowed you access to it? The power of the unknown is out of your grasp instead of at your feet.”

Vivienne pursed her lips together, looking at what angle needed to be played to move this along smoothly and in her favor. “The Lady Morrigan, is an apostate, yes, but she cannot be more knowledgeable in the ways of elves than our Solas. Her use of magics unrecognized by the Circle is... problematic at best. She is dangerous. We have no way of knowing what she will do or when she might turn against us.”

Several heads nodded in agreement, as if they knew the extent of Morrigan’s capabilities. Varric threw in his two cents. “I, for one, think it’d be a nice change if mages stopped blowing shit up.”

“Ah, but Varric, that only seems to happen when they’re around _you._ ” Dorian patted the dwarf’s shoulder.

“Do you see why I’m worried, Sparkler?”

Rhian cut them off. “I am not asking any of you to trust Morrigan, let alone like her. She is here as an ally. As _my_ ally.”

“But is she not your friend as well, Inquisitor?”

“And you believe that sentiment played a part in my decision, Vivienne?” Rhian took the silence to mean the enchanter did. “Morrigan is forever bound to a powerful, ancient goddess. The voices she hears are often a painful distraction from what is happening around her, and she has to fight to keep her will. And you think letting her drink, allowing her access to that pain and chaos, was an act of friendship?” She took a step forward, the wooden edge of the table pressing hard against her leg. “I am not glad she drank from the Well. I would have rather left it unspoiled. But my sentiment, Vivienne, is that I have power enough, and I question those who would say otherwise.”

Toward one end of the table, Sera whistled, breaking the silence that had grown thick around them. “Woo, that’s about the right of it, isn’t it?” She cracked her knuckles. “Point is, the Inquisitor’s known this Morri-whats-her-face for years and look, she’s still alive isn’t she? I’d rather that witch be crazy as crackers over our leader any day. She’s not the one who’s got to bloody up that Coryphifish is she?”

“That is very true, Sera. However, even though Corypheus must be our priority, Morrigan’s newly acquired knowledge will continue to pose a threat.”

“Seeker, could not the same be said of every person in this room? What we know, what we have come to know, do we not all pose our own threats to the Inquisition?” Solas could have well been an advisor with his sheer sense of logic, and Rhian was thankful for his well-timed interruption. “The Inquisitor does what is necessary. She looks for the best outcome, not the best option. That is why we follow her, is it not?”

Mutterings of agreement made their way around the table, and Rhian felt the tension in her chest begin to unwind, if only slightly. “You have no oath of loyalty to me. Each of you volunteered your services in one way or another, and I am glad to have them. But, if you are not able to believe I will do what needs to be done, then you are free to leave. The Inquisition has no use for those who would not do the same.”

And after taking a moment to gauge each of their expressions, Rhian turned her attention to the map and the operations that needed her approval. They each filed out in their own time, Varric mentioning to Bull that he’d “need a drink after that mess” because his nerves _felt_ the electricity in the room. Vivienne was last.

“They call you the Iron Lady.” Rhian kept her eyes on the papers in front of her. “Iron may be one of the strongest metals, the backbone of many industries, but make it malleable, combine it with other seemingly unimportant materials, and you end up with steel.” She picked up a discarded sword marker, made her way to the doors to stand beside Vivienne, and placed it in the woman’s hands. “Steel cuts through the world, changing everything. But it would not have the ability to do so, if it had not first changed itself.”


End file.
